“So you’re looking forward to seeing him?” Cimon asked, hearing the affection in his friend’s voice.
“I am. Yes.” Mardonius was quiet for a while, then he sat up. “I’ve heard that there are some new girls in from Germania at Sylla’s. How about taking a detour there tonight as a way to celebrate my leaving?”
Cimon rested his face on his arms and looked at Mardonius. “Have you got time?”
Mardonius grinned. “We’re not leaving until the afternoon and you’ll have Shelpa all to yourself soon enough, so why not have some fun now whilst you can. Though I still think you’ll be gone before the end of the year.”
Cimon grinned. “Do you want to bet on that?” Mardonius held out his hand to take up the wager.
***
Cyrus hastily pulled on the recently discarded tunic as Shelpa glowered at him from the bed.
“Why can’t you see her tomorrow? It’s late,” she complained.
“Because it is so late. And she’s here. Julia never comes out and certainly not at this time,” he explained, patting down his ruffled hair. “I’m seeing her tomorrow, so why she’s here now, I have no idea. But it must be urgent.”
Shelpa sulked, pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Don’t be long,” she told him.
Cyrus ignored her, opened the door and went out into the atrium of the villa to greet Julia.
She was sitting in the garden on a bench looking worried. She stood as he approached but he waved at her to stay seated.
“I’m so sorry, Cyrus, for coming here at this hour, but I had to tell you personally.”
“What is it?” he asked, sinking down next to her.
“They’re back. Those wielders. Fifteen of them landed at Ostia this evening. They settled into rooms, but they’ll be here tomorrow.”
Cyrus studied her, contemplating the information. “How do you know?”
Julia took a deep breath. “The other wielders know about them. Some of the more understanding ones informed me tonight. They were told that they were here and our local wielders were told to aid them as best they could, but also not to get in the way.
“They’re from the east and have been trained to destroy all kinds of undead. They’ve been working through Mesopotamia and have set their sights on Rome, a city, they say, which is seething with rot and corruption and we’re part of it.”
Cyrus took a breath. “At least we know what they are now.” He thought for a minute “You’ve lived through these persecutions before, haven’t you?”
She smiled quietly. “About three and one when I was a fledging. And yes, Dio still digs below the city; he’s trying to make the catacombs a viable place to live. He’s created a new entrance out of Rome as well now.”
Cyrus nodded; she’d anticipated where his thoughts had been going. Rome was built of a soft rock which was easy to dig out – well, it was easy for a Rabisu. For hundreds of years they had been tunnelling away below certain shops and buildings to create an interconnecting series of chambers. Dio had made it his life’s work to connect them all and create an underground city that could be accessed from the countryside beyond. It would make an ideal escape route. Until recently all bodies had been burnt in Rome, but lately a practice of burying the dead had taken hold and they were using this soft soil outside of the city to do that. Fortunately the authorities had banned burials inside the city, so their tunnels were safe so far.
“We’ll get as many out of Rome as possible and the rest we’ll send to the tunnels,” he told her.
“I have people living over the entrances who’ll get food and water to us. And some of us can risk going out to feed and can bring the essence back for those who stay behind. It’s worked before.”
He nodded and was about to say something else when Shelpa spoke. They hadn’t noticed that she’d come out to join them with only a cloth wrapped around her naked flesh. “I hate the catacombs.”
Cyrus and Julia turned to stare at her. “You and Cimon will leave as before,” he told her.
“What, like you? No, I’ll stay with my friends in their hour of need,” she snapped back.
Cyrus remembered then that he’d been summoned east by his maker and he felt Julia’s eyes on him. “I’m not going,” he told her.
“But it’s Enhil. You can’t ignore him.”
“I’ll write to explain why I can’t. He’ll understand.”
“Maybe that’s why he summoned you and Mardonius and didn’t give a reason,” she said flippantly.
“You might be right,” he said thoughtfully. “Where in the east did they come from?”
Julia shook her head. “I don’t know, sorry, but we first heard about them today.”
“He’s cutting it fine if he was trying to save you,” Shelpa added, picking a flower and twirling it in her fingers.
Cyrus shook his head. “The letter came whilst we were away, so it followed us to Alexandria and then finally caught up with us when we were back here.”
“So you should have received it weeks ago and been long gone by now,” Julia said quietly.
Cyrus nodded. “But if that’s the case, then why wouldn’t he warn me that they were coming? He knows I have created children with me in Rome.”
“Who knows?” Julia said standing up. “Maybe it’s merely a coincidence, or his request is the warning?”
“She could be right there,” Shelpa said coming closer to him. “You were confused about it coming so soon after his last communication and there was no explanation of why he was asking you to leave.”
“He could have said. How was I to understand a cryptic message like that?” Cyrus remonstrated.
“It’s possible that he was worried that his communications were being monitored?” Julia suggested. “I have to go to get things ready. I’ll keep you updated, Cyrus.”
Cyrus stood as well. “Thank you, Julia, I’m sure we’ll get through this and destroy them eventually.”
She nodded. “It may take some time. But, I’m sure we’ll win. Goodnight,” she said and walked quietly down the garden and through the atrium.
Cyrus looked at Shelpa. “Where are Mardonius and Cimon?”
She shook her head and touched his arm. “They left a note with me saying that they were going out to give us time to say goodbye. They won’t be back until morning.”
“Typical, otherwise I could have sent you both away to keep you safe.” Cyrus sighed. “It might be too late by morning.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not going anywhere and Cimon was some sort of soldier, so he’ll want to stay as well.”
“No, he’s too young, Shelpa, and he has too much to live for,” he told her firmly.
“Well, you tell him that then, and good luck with it.” She smiled grimly at him and wandered back into the atrium.
***
Cyrus was sitting in his study making the final adjustments to his leaving preparations. Most of the detail had been finalised in readiness for his first absence, but now there would be no Cimon or Julia, so he would have to find alternative arrangements. At least he would still be in the city, and might therefore be able to deal with some urgent matters, but not in person; he‘d need a reliable go-between for that. Suddenly he was shaken from his concentration by a bang and then lots of giggling. From this he presumed that the others were home.
He went out and stood in the doorway watching the antics of the two drunken Rabisu. They had decided to bring their companions home with them and were now in various stages of undress in the atrium. It would’ve been amusing if the danger wasn’t so close.
Mardonius was sprawled in a chair with a voluptuous blonde girl draped over him, his wandering hand the only sign that he wasn’t asleep. Cimon was pinned against the wall by another well-proportioned young woman and he was feeding from her with uninhibited gusto. From the look of the girl it was safe to say that they’d been exchanging essence for most of the night.
Cyrus glanced over as Shelpa came o
ut of the bedroom and observed the scene. “I see they’re back,” she commented, ignoring Cyrus’s disproving frown.
Cimon broke his embrace with the girl, who flopped down against his shoulder. He shuddered as the essence filled him, then opened his eyes. The shock was almost worth it for Cyrus. One minute the young Rabisu was revelling in ecstasy, then the next he was staring at his disproving maker’s maker. His eyes widened in shock, and then filled with embarrassed humour.
“Mardonius,” he called, still watching them. “Mard, we’ve got company!”
Before Mardonius could respond, Cyrus spoke. “Get rid of the girls and come to my study. You both need to know something.” Then he turned and walked back into his study to finish the letters. Shelpa was left staring at them; she shook her head and followed Cyrus into the room.
“What have we done?” Mardonius called after them. He glanced at Cimon, who shrugged.
“Best do as he says though,” Cimon suggested, rapidly trying to process the alcohol and sober up.
***
The tunnels were chilly and the dank smell of the earth permeated everything, even the skin. Shelpa sat against the wall and cursed herself for insisting on staying in Rome with Cyrus and Mardonius while the strange sect of Wielders roamed the city. Because she’d never been a solider and hadn’t ever bothered to learn to see mortals’ colours, she’d been stuck down in the catacombs for three weeks now. She wasn’t even allowed to go to the vaults and collect the food; Cimon at least could do that, but he was still angry at not being trusted enough to be sent out to feed. They were seeing the other side of her created child in here, much more the mercenary than the shepherd, and it was amusing to see Cyrus try in vain to reason with him.
It was all right for him and Mardonius, they could both go outside and challenge the invaders, and Cyrus had even killed one of them. So far they had managed to destroy three of them, one a week. At this rate they’d be free of these tunnels in another twelve and that didn’t bear thinking about.
There was a commotion by the tunnels to a wine cellar that Julia owned. Shelpa couldn’t quite see what was happening because it was still so crowded; despite Dio’s assurances that he’d added new rooms it was still claustrophobic in there. After craning her neck, she was able to see Julia and the others gathered around someone. At least that meant more food, and she was starving.
Julia had taken to wearing leather cavalry trousers, a short tunic and walking about as if she owned the place; Shelpa had to grudgingly admit that she did, as the shops these vaults were connected to did belong to her, so by rights these tunnels were hers as well. More annoyingly for Shelpa though, was that Julia looked good in that outfit and she wondered if maybe at some later point she should try and wear something a bit more masculine as well. Through the crowd she could see Cimon making his way over to her. He touched her knee and sat down.
“They killed another today. That leaves eleven. And they’ll get those soon enough,” he told her quietly.
“You sound like them now,” she snapped back. “How do you know? You never go out.”
He ignored her outburst. “They got some food as well, this is your share.” He held some bread and she grabbed it from him and took a bite.
Instantly she spat it out. “It tastes like this place. I’m not eating it.”
“Shelpa, you ought to eat.” She ignored that, knowing she could go for weeks, months even, without food if she wanted to and he knew it.
“I’ll breathe on it; sometimes that can make it more palatable.” He took it from her and breathed his essence onto the bread then handed it back to her. She took it looking warily at him and tentatively took a bite. It did taste better, but she knew that it would cost him using his essence like that. The only new supply came from those who risked their lives by going out into Rome, which meant that the rest of them, who were trapped in the caves, had to feed off each other, or go without. Cimon settled next to her and they both ate their bread in gloomy silence, each thinking their own private thoughts.
***
Cyrus scanned the busy street for wielders. Seeing none, he drew the cloak about himself and strode away from the protection of the doorway. He was going to feed and hopefully bring in some more food as well, but fresh essence was the main priority. He understood why some like Shelpa thought that it was unfair that he was able to leave, but it was necessary. Only a few of them had had military experience in their former lives, and were skilled enough to be trusted not to lead Wielders back to any of the various entrances to the catacombs.
He was heading to a rather undesirable part of the city where a dead body wouldn’t cause too much attention. The others like him would come out to feed a little here and there, though they needed the occasional death, the pure essence from the end, but they had to make sure that it was as far away from their hiding place as possible.
He constantly searched and scanned the crowd for wielders, but thankfully it remained clear. Cautiously, he found his way to the dark street that would lead him to one of the many underbellies of the city, where he could feed.
He hardly saw anyone on the journey and quite by chance he came across a man slumped in the alley, somewhat the worse for drink. This was too good an opportunity to miss, so after carefully looking up and down, he swooped upon the unconscious man and took his fill.
When he’d finished he anxiously scanned the street, then he got to his feet and began to retrace his steps. But a sudden noise above him made him look up and he found himself staring directly into the eyes of a wielder, who was carefully taking aim with his arrow from his vantage point on the roof.
Cyrus dived under the protective cover of the roofs and the arrow thudded harmlessly into the wall on the other side of him. He could cling to the sides of the buildings to get back, but he wouldn’t be able to take the most direct route to the hiding place and there were breaks in the walls coming up where he would have to race across the street. However, he’d definitely be quick enough to make it before the archer could take aim, especially as the wielder wouldn’t have any idea where or when he’d be crossing. It would take a little more time but he could easily go back the other way.
Yet before he could even make a move, something hit him straight in the arm. He looked up to see another archer taking aim on the opposite side of the street. Angrily, he broke the shaft of the arrow and ran to the break in the wall and sped across. An arrow skimmed the air just behind him; obviously they had underestimated his speed. He was out of range from one archer but not from the one on the opposite roof, so he crossed the street and went down another alley out of range of both of them. But now he was being followed he couldn’t go back as he’d lead them straight to the others.
There was a pleasure house up ahead, owned by and run by Julia’s people. If he could get there, he’d be safe for the time being and they’d be able to get a message back to his friends, but he knew that it wouldn’t be long before they caught up with him. Cyrus crossed another junction and went a little way down the street before he came to the house. Before entering he scanned the street checking that it was clear; once he was sure, he pushed open the door and went inside.
***
Shelpa could feel hot tears seeping from her eyes, but she was determined not to break down and cry in front of all these other Rabisu, especially not before Julia, who was always so calm and stoic. She could feel Cimon’s arm around her giving her strength; she leant into his cool body and breathed deeply, but she refused to let her grief overwhelm her. Mardonius was saying something else, but she wasn’t listening, Cyrus wasn’t his maker and if he cared so much why wasn’t he going out himself to save his friend? She felt a flash of anger and turned to look at him.
“Why don’t you go? You claim to be his friend, yet I don’t see you risking your life, like he’s done for us.” Mardonius sighed and tried to say something. “Don’t sigh at me, you know I’m right,” she snapped back.
“Shelpa, if one of us went it wou
ld be a suicide mission. The place is crawling with wielders, even if by some miracle we made it there, then almost certainly we wouldn’t get back,” he told her calmly for the third time.
She stared at him in frustrated anger, then she hissed, “But you don’t know that and you won’t even try, some friend you are.”
Now Cimon spoke. “Julia has people working on it, they’ll find a way.”
Shelpa’s anger flared up again, she couldn’t understand why they were so calm about it. “But it might be too late then,” she said, pulling away from Cimon’s embrace. “By the time they get there the wielders might have already severed him.”
Cimon smiled faintly. “It’s a big area, Shelpa, and they’ll hide him, so it won’t be that easy for them to find him.”
“He’s right,” Mardonius added in an effort to reassure her, but before he could say more Shelpa had turned back to Cimon.
“What do you know about it? Don’t you dare try to comfort me when you know nothing about it. If you really cared, you’d be out there trying to save him, instead of sitting in here like a good boy and doing what that she-wolf, Julia, tells you.” She paused and drew breath ignoring Cimon’s stricken face. “I thought you’d been a soldier in the other life, or was it a mercenary? Isn’t this the sort of thing you would’ve excelled in: covert operations and intrigue? So why aren’t you out there doing something to save your friend and my maker?” She finished her tirade and stared at him, hot tears once again spilling from her eyes.
Cimon gazed back at her, and she could see from the emotions playing across his face that he was thinking and weighing something up.
Mardonius was anxiously watching their interaction and he spoke up. “Ci, she didn’t mean it. She’s worried. Don’t do anything...” But his voice trailed away.
Cimon held her gaze as he rose to his feet. She managed a small smile of gratitude through her tears and whispered, “Thank you.” He didn’t respond, but gave her one last look before he slipped quietly away through the tunnels.
***
Cimon breathed in the fresh air and savoured the fact that he was finally outside. He couldn’t really blame Shelpa for her words, she was obviously upset, but it had given him the excuse he needed to get out without getting into too much trouble. He’d been concocting a plan, which he wasn’t sure would work, so hadn’t told anyone as he didn’t want to risk anyone else’s life if it failed and this was the perfect opportunity to put it to the test.